Street Justice: Seconds
by Tidia
Summary: Grady is injured and Beaudreux feels he is to blame.
1. Chapter 1

**Seconds**

_By_: Tidia  
><em>Rating<em>: PG  
><em>Disclaimer:<em> Street Justice is owned by Cannell Entertainment. No monies were made in writing this work of fanficiton.  
><em>Comments:<em> There are many spoilers ahead as you read this: Legacy, Loyalties, Bashing, Parenthood, Debt of Honor, Circle of Death, Cross Fire, Honor and Trust and Desperate. This is an old story I had I my website. Sodakey did not want to be alone with her Street Justice story so I am posting here. if you have not seen this 90s show- there are dvds available. It was a fun show.

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><p>It takes 30 seconds for one's eyes to adjust to the darkness. In that short period of time so much can change. A gun can be fired; blood spilled and lives affected.<p>

"Too many criminals and not enough time B?" Grady said over the cacophony of the crowd gathered at Malloy's. The young man was wiping down the bar, preparing for the next round of drinks that would shortly be requested.

"Something like that," Adam replied as he went behind the bar to get a bottle of mineral water. He was still on duty, and wasn't about to relax with a beer. The detective had stopped by on the way back from investigating a lead that didn't pan out on a missing person's case. Beaudreaux realized if he didn't come up with something soon Gary Lipton would end up in the dead file case.

"Adam, don't forget we're going to be closed on Sunday and Monday," Malloy lowered her voice as she added, "for the fumigators."

The detective smiled, the customers hadn't appeared to hear her. It was purely a yearly precautionary measure. Malloy kept the bar clean and in great shape, she was the mistress of the bar, queen of her domain with Adam and Grady set in the roles as her servants. Adam wanted to laugh out loud as he thought how quickly Malloy made him work the pub when she knew he had some free time. Beaudreaux had come by for a break. It was with these two friends he found some solace and an escape from the outside world.

Grady was pouring a shot. "Hey B, mind if I stay with you for the weekend?"

Malloy gave Jamieson a sideways glance. "Afraid of some bug spray, Grady?"

Grady snapped a towel out at the blonde, missing her by a foot. Adam sighed and looked upward at the antics of his two friends. He wished he didn't have to leave, but duty called and he wanted to work on this case.

"Sure, Grady, I'll be home late tonight." Beaudreaux tossed the young man a set of keys. "I'll see you later."

Usually Grady was tired on a Saturday night. The crowds, the noise and being on his feet for six hours straight was draining. This time though he was feeling a little pumped so he headed for the movies. There was an action flick he wanted to check out and it seemed like a perfect time to unwind.

He was ready to crash by the time he maneuvered the motorcycle through the late night streets. The young man parked his bike in the back, making his way up the stairs. Jamieson had the keys in his hand, the jingling echoed through the empty hallway. Grady hadn't seen B's car out front, so he knew he had time to raid the refrigerator before hitting the couch. Adam was a great cook, and the martial artist was looking forward to some leftovers.

Grady inserted the key into the lock, with a snap the door opened. He entered the darkened apartment. Jamieson's hand stretched for the light switch, pausing when he heard breathing.

"B?" he questioned as he stepped forward in a fighting stance sensing something was wrong. Karate moves would not be enough though as Grady heard a whispering sound, then felt a searing pain in his abdomen. His hand went to the wound automatically; he stumbled down on one knee. The martial artist heard heavy footsteps and lunged at the shadow. Grady threw a punch followed by an uppercut. The intruder stumbled, then retreated out the door. Jamieson lurched after him only to find himself falling, entering another kind of blackness.

Adam turned the little switch on his desk lamp. The precinct was still bustling with activity; criminals didn't wear a watch that said enough was enough. The detective reclined back in his office chair as he opened the Lipton file. Gary was reported missing by his employer, CGX Group, makers of computer chips. The human resource representative, Mary Selby, became concerned when Lipton did not show up for work for 5 days.

"Just not like him. He is very reliable." She had said when she made the report. Mary had allowed Adam access to his employment records. The missing man had no family to speak of and according to his neighbors led a quiet life. Upon investigation of his apartment, Beaudreux only learned the man liked baseball because of the card collection in one of his closets. Gary Lipton was perfectly normal.

Beaudreaux put his feet up on the gray metal desk. This wouldn't be the first time a man walked away from his humdrum existence to seek a different life. Sometimes the responsibilities of life were a heavy weight to carry. Adam could empathize. There were days when he wished so many people didn't count on him. Grady needed to be constantly pulled back from the abyss of his soul's darkness. Miguel needed a moral compass and mentor. Malloy needed to have a connection to her father and the job needed him most of all. He had a responsibility to keep the streets safe.

"Well Mister Lipton," Adam said as he placed his feet back on the floor and closed the folder, "if you don't want to be found then you won't be found." The detective looked at the clock, noticing the late hour. He pulled the leather jacket off his chair, deciding to head home. Adam only hoped that Grady cleaned up after raiding the refrigerator.

Adam rubbed his hand over his haggard face, feeling the stubble already forming. He climbed the stairs two by two wanting to make it to his bed sooner rather than later. He stopped; noticing his apartment door was ajar. Instinctively, the detective took out his weapon and leaned against the wall, making his way up the hallway. He took a deep breath as he walked in front of the door, his gun facing into his apartment.

Beaudreaux squinted, trying to see into the darkness. "Grady," he called out, hoping the young man was safe. There was no answer, quickly Adam reached inside and threw on the switch. The lights were momentarily blinding, but illuminating-on the floor lay Grady, unconscious with blood pooling around him.

Adam dropped to his knees, not caring if there was an unknown attacker waiting for him. He cradled the body close to him, feeling a pulse still beating, the young man's chest rising and falling. Grady's ashen face prompted him into action. The detective grabbed the afghan that was sprawled on the sofa using it to apply pressure to the wound. Adam rocked back and forth, the same scene playing over in his mind of an 8 year-old Grady crying out; "Please, don't leave me!" while the Vietnamese jungle engulfed him.

Beaudreaux found the anguish and emotions overwhelming, finally yelling out, "Help, someone help me!"

Oh God, she really hated Pine's phone calls. Even in her groggy, half-asleep mind she still recognized the Lieutenant's voice. Malloy had nothing against Charlie personally, it was just he had been the one to tell her that her father had been killed. Pine's voice instantly made her alert. "Is it Adam?" Her stomach churned in dread.

Malloy heard the Lieutenant sigh. "No, Grady's been shot. Adam's neighbor called 911."

The blonde pushed her hair away from her face, and put her feet down on the carpeting. "What?" She looked around the room, locating the clothes she had taken off, readying to make a hasty departure.

"I don't know much except they are at Mercy General," Pine replied. She hung up the phone once she heard the hospital name to get dressed.

Malloy maneuvered the streets deftly, knowing she was breaking the speed limit to get to the hospital. She parked her Volkswagen roughly in the first available space and ran through the parking lot, repeating to herself that everything was going to be fine. She had to wait while the automatic doors pulled open. At the emergency room's reception desk, she slapped her hand down to get the nurse's attention. Malloy quickly glanced around the room. "Never mind," she said to the perturbed nurse as she saw Adam in the waiting room. She ran to him, engulfing him in a hug, thankful he was strong and whole. "How's Grady?"

Adam's eyes did not focus on her. Instead his attention was on the door separating the waiting room from the trauma area. His usual brilliant brown eyes were dull. "Don't know yet."

Malloy looked at the blood on Beaudreaux's shirt; sickened by the red stain that represented another violent act. "What happened?" she asked as she guided him to a chair.

Adam dropped his head into his hands. "I don't know that either."

Malloy thought back to when she had resented Grady as a ghost haunting Adam. The blonde had seen Beaudreaux build himself up only to depress himself with each disappointment. She had been wary when Jamieson finally did surface only to discover that once the martial artist befriended you he was never-endingly loyal and supportive. Grady had been there when she had lost her brother, Danny, and when Jack had attacked her. Now she was unable to help him except pray to a God she didn't really believe she was on speaking terms with since her dad was killed. Malloy gripped Adam's arm. He needed her and Grady would want her to keep the detective steady.

Miguel appeared out of nowhere. "Beaudreaux, Malloy, I heard about Grady." The former gang member's hands were clenched by his side, ready to attack an unseen enemy. The two hot heads had originally hated each other, but over time they formed a bond through Adam.

"No news, Miguel," Malloy said as she patted the chair on the other side of her.

Mendez crossed his arms and stayed standing. "He's tough." He commented as though it was an epitaph. "Word's out on the street, Beaudreaux, but ain't no one taking credit."

Adam looked at the young man, steely determination entering his eyes, making Malloy shiver at the ferociousness she saw. "Someone did it and they'll pay."

There was silence amongst the trio and Malloy studied the detective again. He had been saddled with the name, 'By The Book Beaudreaux'. It was a name the detective took pride in. It took a large amount of convincing to have Adam bend the rules. Malloy knew this time Beaudreaux would not hesitate to break the rules if it would lead to Grady's attackers.

"The family of Grady Jamieson?" The doctor came out, a surgical mask dropped around his neck, his blue cap in his hands.

"Right here, doc," Miguel spoke up. Malloy and Adam stood up slowly.

"We got the bullet out." The doctor gestured to his right lower abdomen." It was lodged in the small intestine, nicking his large intestine."

Malloy tried to make sense of what the mustached doctor was saying. "Can we see him?" She wouldn't be at ease until she could touch him, see that he was breathing.

"In a moment." The doctor directed them back towards the chairs. "Mister Jamieson lost a lot of blood. There is also a threat of infection- peritonitis." The doctor waited before continuing.

"Is he going to be all right?" Miguel demanded, raising his voice.

The blonde patted his arm to calm him, and gestured for the doctor to continue.

"We'll have to wait and see. He's young, strong and has a good chance." The doctor sighed.

Adam was stoic and nodded. He extended a hand to the doctor. "Thank you."

The doctor accepted the handshake. "He's in recovery and then going to ICU. I'll have a nurse come get you when they're ready."

Malloy gave Adam another hug. Grady had to be fine. He just had to be. Malloy couldn't imagine another situation like when they had almost lost Adam. Divine intervention had saved Grady from killing the Shadow Dragon who had tried to murder the detective. Luckily, Adam woke up to stop the martial artist. Malloy didn't know if she had the strength to pull Beaudreaux from the abyss if he decided to go down that path.

Miguel saw the look that passed between the nurse and the doctor. Mendez was aware that it was only supposed to be one person at a time in the intensive care unit. The doctor had given the stern nurse a nod and mouthed, 'It's okay.'

The former gang member grimaced as he caught sight of Grady, shirtless, his torso covered with wires leading to different glowing and beeping machines. The room was dark except for an overhead light near Jamieson's head that set him awash in unnatural fluorescent lights. Grady looked frighteningly pale, his mouth a tight line acknowledging even in slumber he was in pain.

Miguel was unaccustomed to seeing Grady so helpless. It made Mendez shiver. He had seen the martial artist work out, seen him beat up people effortlessly. Miguel even admired Jamieson when he first met him and the gang member had pointed a gun at him.

Mendez tapped Grady's foot, the only part of the martial artist that was untouched by clutter. Under his breath Miguel uttered the words that Grady's mother had said to Jamieson nightly before death had taken her away from him. "Goodnight, sleep tight and . . ." Mendez's throat constricted and he let the words trail off.

Malloy went to the head of the bed and brushed Grady's hair off his face. Adam stayed back, leaning against the glass window.

Miguel sighed. "Beaudreaux, what are we going to do about this?" Mendez let his disdain for the justice system carry in his voice. It was a trait he and Grady had in common. They both knew there were exceptions to the rules. It was a lesson learned on the streets where both young men had grown up.

Adam stepped forward. Miguel couldn't read the emotions that played on the detective's face as he studied his injured friend. "I want you to sit tight, and watch over Grady." He gave Jamieson a quick nod and headed for the door. "I'll take care of this."

Miguel caught up to Adam as he made his way to the elevator. "He's my friend too," Mendez stated hands stuffed in his pockets.

Beaudreaux placed a hand on the former gang member's shoulder. "I know, and if I need you I'll call." Adam squeezed the shoulder once, then hopped on the elevator.

Miguel watched the doors close. He still had his contacts on the streets. The detective could always use some behind the scenes help.

"There's a lot of stuff I haven't told you. Stuff that no one knows about." Adam recalled how crazed Grady had been, his words running together almost incoherently. "We'll deal with it together," Adam had replied, then he went off to solve the Circle of Death case. The detective punched the steering wheel. He should have stayed put to help Grady with those demons, instead the martial artist had run off and almost gotten himself killed. "Should have, if only, next time," Adam mumbled under his breath. "I hope I get the chance. . ."

The detective took a deep breath focusing on the case he wasn't supposed to be working on. Hard when it was your own home, thought the detective as he looked at his apartment building swathed in blue police lights.

When he reached his apartment, he stayed staring at the stain in the wood floor. Kelsey must have seen him.

"I'll clean it up, sir," Tricia said in a quiet voice. "How's Grady?" The martial artist had helped Kelsey when Shoeham's murderer was trying to kill her too.

"Holding his own," Beaudreaux replied gruffly going into his kitchen to make himself some coffee.

Tricia followed, leaning against the kitchen counter. "Have any ideas on who's after Grady?"

Beaudreaux shook his head as he opened cabinets looking for some coffee. There were too many variables. Grady had given Adam a generic explanation about his past- jail in Vietnam, then to Hong Kong, making it to the U.S., his time on the East Coast searching for Harden, and then here where they were finally reunited. If the closet door of Grady's past was open then the detective knew it was only ajar about a quarter of the way. There was much Adam didn't know, he never wanted to push the martial artist into revealing too much. Grady wasn't ready to tell him everything; still afraid he would lose Adam's friendship if he found out about some evil past deed. Beaudreaux figured they had time. He had treated Jamieson like a peer. Grady was a man, but maybe he should have been like a father questioning his son's whereabouts after a night out. "Keep an open mind, maybe they want me."

"I'm working that angle, Sarge," Rothman stated, pushing the Taster's Choice container towards Adam. "Seeing if anyone has an axe to grind."

Suddenly, coffee didn't sound like a good idea. "Keep me informed," Beaudreaux told his two detectives. He headed out the door, glancing around at all the activity taking place in his home. Adam hadn't planned on staying at the apartment to get some rest anyway. The sun was already up. He would check on Grady and then go and talk to Willis.

Grady was in his room, his little box holding all his prized possessions, his scattered memories in front of him. In Nam he had found the box and placed his photos and important trinkets that reminded him of his parents and time with B in it. When the kids at the orphanage tried to steal it, Grady knew he had to do something. He ran away and hid the box. The martial artist didn't see the leather case for years while he was in prison, but once they were reunited, it hadn't left his sight. Jamieson shivered, something was wrong. Why was he so afraid of the box? The case, sensing his emotions, began to quiver. Finally, it threw its latch open and like Pandora's box, allowed evil to enter the world.

Warriors dressed in black flew out. Too stunned to move Grady stood riveted to the ground, his limbs feeling sluggish and heavy. The shadow soldiers began to circle around him. Jamieson shuddered as the ghostly faces revealed themselves-his parents, Harden, Lan Duc, the guards and inmates at the prison. All the people who had caused Grady pain began to attack. The martial artist tired as he threw roundhouse kicks, uppercuts, and sidekicks. He tried a jump-spinning crescent only to have one of the attackers swiftly catch his leg and bring an elbow smashing down. Grady buckled at the assault. The warriors started to smother him; one had him in a headlock, slowly twisting his neck.

Grady grasped at air, like Pandora's Box only hope remained. Jamieson cried out hoping the person who cared about him could save him. "Don't leave me B!"

"It's okay. I'm here." The martial artist felt a hand slip into his. The figures began to retreat back into the box. As Grady relaxed he let the blackness creep in. The warmth emanating from the hand escorted him to a dreamless sleep.

Vaguely Jamieson heard a buzzing whisper. "Delirious. . . . Peritonitis."


	2. Chapter 2

"Miguel told me what happened," Willis said as he opened the door. Mendez worked for Willis as a file clerk and assistant. "Have a seat." Teddy gestured to the flowered sofa.

Adam sat on the edge of the couch, not allowing himself to get comfortable, still shaken by Grady's cry for help at the hospital. "He's in septic shock because bacteria entered his blood stream. They are pumping him full of drugs." Adam had kept his head bowed and then looked up to Willis, who was handing him a cup of coffee. "I don't know what I'll do if I lose him."

Teddy placed a hand on Adam's shoulder. "I know Grady, Adam. He's gonna be fine. Just fine," Willis added as he squeezed his friend's shoulder.

The detective leaned back on the couch letting himself momentarily relax. "He was there on my floor for God knows how long." Beaudreaux let his guilt wash over him, the 'if only' statements came to mind. Willis was the person he could share these thoughts with. The man already knew most of Adam's deep dark secrets from veteran's group. Beaudreaux only hoped Teddy could ease his conscience.

Willis shook his head, placing his mug on the coffee table. "Now Adam, you're not superman."

"But I'm a cop, and I am supposed to protect people." Beaudreaux was frustrated he hadn't been there for Grady. Adam was always trying to make up for not finding the younger man sooner. If only he had thought about checking the orphanages in Da Nang instead of limiting his search to the military camp.

"Protect them, not be their savior." Teddy cupped his coffee in both hands. "You're the best detective I know. You'll catch the people who did this."

Adam put his cup down; he wasn't interested in coffee at this moment. "That's why I'm here. I need to know if you've heard about any Vietnamese refugees coming from Lan Duc prison." Jamieson had been an inmate there. It was in prison where he had learned most of the martial arts that helped him to survive. "Anyone that might have a motive to hurt Grady."

Willis stood up, taking both cups into the kitchen. "I'll do what I can Adam, you know I will."

The detective stood up to leave. Willis opened the door and put his hand out. Adam clenched his friend's outstretched hand. Beaudreaux paused for a moment. At the hospital he had willed strength into Grady. He hoped Willis's presence and friendship would be there to do the same for him.

Grady gulped a few times to moisten his dry throat. His eyes felt heavy, and although he felt more of a sense of awareness, he was not ready to become fully awake. The martial artist felt overly warm and tugged weakly on the edge of the blanket covering him. Jamieson was unable to exert the effort to make the covering move very far to alleviate the heat. He squeezed his eyes, hoping to clear the confusion in his mind; questions began to creep into his mind. Where was he? What happened? Jumbled images flittered and weaved in his head confusing him. Finally, Grady decided to open his eyes if only for a moment. Malloy was sitting by the edge of his bed. Jamieson's eyes traveled along the room. He wasn't at the bar. "Hey," he gritted out, his voice gravely from disuse.

"Grady!" The blonde exclaimed softly. She caressed his face, staring at him as if he were a ghost.

Jamieson closed his eyes for a moment as shadows began to descend on him. Suddenly, he felt cold and shivered. Grady rubbed his hand under his nose, feeling something foreign there.

The martial artist felt a sense of dread stemming from a lack of awareness and control. Malloy grabbed his hand. Her hand felt strangely grounding and comforting against his clammy skin.

"What happened?" Grady took in a deep breath hoping to clear his mind, stay with his friends instead of slipping into his seemingly all too real nightmares. Jamieson forced himself to think. He focused on an anchor. "B all right?"

"You were shot," she said in a low voice.

Grady nodded, not fully comprehending, believing the pain was from something else. Was he still in prison? Maybe he was hiding on the streets? He struggled to rise off the bed with the notion he needed to leave and find the truth.

Another set of hands grabbed his arm. Grady flinched at the contact, trying to remember what he had done to land back in Hell. The hand was cooling, not sweaty and dirty. "Gary?" Jamieson thought his old friend, who had helped him when he first got back to North America, was assisting him again.

Miguel's image swam before him. "It's Miguel." Mendez repeated over and over again.

Grady closed his eyes for a moment. Exhaustion began to envelop him, as he tried to accept he was momentarily safe. Miguel seemed insistent in keeping him from sleep's call.

"Is someone after you?" The former gangbanger said as he shook Jamieson's arm.

"Me?" Grady opened his eyes to narrow slits. "Don't think so. Maybe," he said as he tried to bury himself deeper into the mattress as images of being chased began to torment him. "No questions," he said panting as if he had been running for his life-so many people were after him.

"It's okay," Malloy began to stroke his hair.

This seemed to hold the paranoid images at bay, softening them like Lisa used to do when they lived together. Grady opened his eyes and gave the blonde a wan smile believing it was his former girlfriend and not Malloy.

He was still so confused by the images happening in this room before his eyes. He wanted to reach out to see if they were real, but he was too scared to find out. It was so hard to think. "Am tired," Grady uttered, sharing his weakness, feeling ashamed he was unable to be stronger.

Adam stormed into Pine's office as soon as he got to the bullpen. Eric must have seen him come in and followed close behind. "I know what you're going to say," Beaudreaux started as Charlie looked up at him, placing his pen back on the desk. "Rothman has volunteered for the Lipton case." Adam pointed at the young detective by his side, who nodded in agreement. "I know it's against procedure, but I am going to find Grady's shooter with or without your blessing."

"No problem," the Lieutenant said. He picked up his pen and resumed writing. "The Lipton case is closed."

Adam felt momentarily deflated. The detective had prepared himself for an argument; even to turn in his badge, but not Charlie giving him permission. "He came back?"

"Don't know." Pine shrugged, leaning back in his office chair, his face showing a demeanor of calmness. "NSA came in and said they're handling it. In light of what happened to Grady I didn't think I should protest."

"No Such Agency?" Rothman said interrupting from the doorway he stood in during the whole proceedings.

Pine lifted an eyebrow, giving the younger man a questioning look

"Sorry," Eric smiled. "But for a bunch of code breakers they are very cloak and dagger."

Adam shook his head; glad he did not have to concentrate on more than one case. "Whatever, I don't care." He looked at Rothman. "What do the forensics reports say?"

Eric removed the perennial grin from his face. "Prints were found at your apartment other than Grady's."

"And?" Adam said exasperated with Rothman's dramatic pause. Beaudreaux wanted answers not a hard time. Eric was a good up and coming detective with great instincts, but some days Adam wanted to kill him. Now was one of those days, when the young man was standing between him and finding the truth to Grady's shooter.

"That's it, Sarge." Rothman seemed to shrink back from Beaudreaux's tone of voice.

"We can't find out whom they belong to," Pine interrupted so that Adam would calm down his wrath and divert it to someone other than Rothman, who was just the deliverer of bad news, not the actual shooter. "They come up classified."

Adam realized his emotions were running rampant. He gave a quick nod of apology to Eric before sliding into the guest chair across from Charlie. "Is that too coincidental? NSA and the mystery prints?"

"I think not, Sarge." Eric replied flippantly, already recuperated from Adam's stinging voice moments ago.

Beaudreaux looked up to the ceiling. "I was hoping you weren't going to agree with me, Rothman." The older detective rose and headed for the office door.

"Don't go stepping on any federal agent's toes, Adam," Pine said loudly to the sergeant as he walked out of the bullpen.

Rothman caught up in a few steps, Adam gave him a nod, appreciating the company and the friendship of the younger man. Without Grady around it was nice to know someone was watching his back.

As they drove to CGX's building Eric used the silent time to gather his thoughts. Adam was gripping the steering wheel, lost in one single moment. Rothman knew he had to be a good friend, and make sure Beaudreaux did not go over the deep end.

The young detective had to put a hand on the dash as Adam abruptly shifted the sedan into park. Eric didn't have time to make any remarks. The Sergeant slammed the door to the car and with determined steps was walking towards the entry of the office building.

The receptionist was silenced by the scowl on Beaudreaux's face. She was still cowering when Eric came in; he raised his badge and gave a lopsided grin. Rothman finally caught up to the Sarge, as he was about to barge in on human resources.

"Sarge, let me handle this." Rothman said as he placed his hand over Adam's on the doorknob. Adam paused for moment, then finally relaxed his hand by his side.

Eric grinned, "Charm always wins out over brute force." The young detective was trying hard to bring some levity to the situation.

Adam raised an eyebrow skeptically before shaking his head as they entered.

Rothman spied the nameplate of the woman as the desk. It was the same woman who had contacted the police when Lipton did not report to work. "Mary, my name is Detective Rothman and I work with Sergeant Beaudreaux." Eric introduced himself, leaning against the guest chair in the office. "I'm following up on Gary Lipton."

"So you found him?" Mary asked as she pulled off her reading glasses. "Is he all right?"

"No, there is still an open investigation," the Sergeant said as he stood in the middle of the small office. His arms were crossed; he still looked formidable and daunting.

Eric gestured for Adam to take a seat, somewhere far away from Mary, so he wouldn't scare the woman. "What was Mister Lipton working on here at CGX?"

The young detective watched as Mary appraised him, taking in his finely cut sport jacket and tailored pants. She placed her glasses back on and went over to a file cabinet. "Let me check his job description. With over 250 employees, I am not familiar with all positions."

"Thank you, it's important." Rothman leaned against the human resource rep's desk and picked up a picture on her desk. There were two children waving at the camera. Eric smiled at the twosome, returned the photo to its spot.

"He was an electrical engineer, specializing in creating computer chips," Mary said clutching the folder to her.

"Anything special about this chip?" Eric raised his eyebrows, and gave the woman a bashful grin trying to flirt with her.

She looked down for a moment, before saying under her breath. "This company does have federal contracts so I really can't say."

"Thank you, Mary." Eric gave a nod to Adam who had crossed his legs and was nervously jangling his foot. "You have a lovely day." He winked to the woman.

She smiled, her cheeks pinked. "If I can be of any further assistance . . ."

"See, Sarge, A little sugar goes a long way." Rothman commented to Beaudreaux after they left the office.

Adam just rolled his eyes, but Eric could swear he heard a mumbled, "Thanks."

Nothing was making sense yet everything was coming together. Adam stretched out his legs. The hospital chair wasn't comfortable for his large frame, but he was glad the night nurse had shown him the kindness and allowed him to stay. Grady's monitors beeped incessantly, and Beaudreaux watched the young man sleep through the cacophony. The doctor had told them that peritonitis was very painful and taxing on the body so Jamieson's deep slumber was actually the best thing for him. He had awoken sporadically, but soon was exhausted.

Adam contemplated as Grady slept. Somehow Lipton and his work were linked to the NSA and his bedridden friend. The detective rubbed his face.

"Sorry Sergeant, but you look like someone burning the candle at both ends."

Adam was startled and opened his eyes wide. He had not noticed that the nurse had come in to check on Grady's vitals.

"I'll keep an eye on your friend." She patted Jamieson affectionately on the arm. "You should get some rest." The woman gave him a stern look when he did not leave the chair right away.

Not wanting to stray from her good graces, he agreed. "I am a bit tired."

She snorted and smiled. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Malloy was surprised to see Adam at the bar so early in the morning. She had figured she would work on the books before heading to the hospital for visiting hours. Today she had a feeling Grady would be better. She hoped it wasn't wishful thinking. Malloy knew she couldn't deal with another person in her life dying. The blonde woman tried not to seem shocked at seeing her partner there. "Did you stay here all night?" She tossed her keys on the bar and went around joining Adam.

"My home is a crime scene," Beaudreaux replied as he poured himself a cup of coffee.

Malloy held out a mug to her friend. "Oh, there has to be more to it." She sniffed the dark brew.

Adam put down his mug without taking a sip. "He shouldn't have been there, and this shouldn't have happened," he replied vehemently.

"Could of, would of, should of-know what they have in common?" Malloy placed both hands around her steaming cup of coffee. "They can drive you crazy." She was going to continue and try to ease her friend's fabricated guilt when two men entering the bar interrupted her. "I'm sorry. We're closed." Malloy told the two suited men.

They nodded to her and stepped into the bar. "Sergeant Beaudreaux, I'm Agent Ferrin and this is Agent Luster of the National Security Agency." The larger of the men made the introductions as they pulled out their badges.

Malloy stepped forward to examine the pictures closely. "Gentlemen, the bar is not open but I can offer you a cup of coffee." She pulled out two cups.

Agent Luster waved her off. "No, thank you, ma'am."

Agent Ferrin sat down on an available bar stool. "Sergeant, we came to speak to you about a case that as you know is closed."

Adam leaned forward, planting his hands on the firm wood bar top. "Well evidence says otherwise. . ."

Agent Luster sat next to Agent Ferrin. "This is a matter of National Security, Sergeant." The Agent narrowed his dark eyes menacingly.

Ferrin picked at a spot on the bar's counter top, before looking up. "And we would rather not contact your superior officer about this matter."

Malloy placed a hand on Adam's bicep. She saw how Beaudreux's temper was growing, she didn't want him to say anything that could jeopardize his position as a detective. "My friend is laying there fighting for his life." Adam spat.

The two agents stood up, their stools grated against the floor. "Sometimes accidents happen. As you know there are risks involved in law enforcement."

Malloy squeezed the bicep harder than she intended as her anger was piqued. "Grady is not a police officer."

"Whatever the case may be, we understand that Grady Jameison will make a full recovery." Luster said and Ferrin nodded in agreement.

Malloy let go of his arm, and Adam slapped his palm on the bar. "You hope."

Ferrin shifted nervously. "Be that as it may we want to make sure our position on the Lipton matter is FULLY understood." Agent Luster gestured towards the door.

"Was that a threat?" Adam began to walk around the bar.

"The NSA does not make threats." Luster stopped as he reached the door, and turned. "We protect the public, and hope you can accept that. . ."

"I can, and that's all I intend to do too." The detective stood in the middle of the bar.

Malloy watched as the two agents left the bar. Adam's back was to Malloy. She stepped from behind the bar. "Adam, what's going on? The NSA is involved? What does this have to do with Grady?"

Adam stayed in the same spot and shook his head. "I don't know. I just don't know."


	3. Chapter 3

Adam tore down the yellow tape that marked the entrance to his apartment. The day had come and gone and the detective was still not one step closer to finding out what the hell was going on. Thankfully though, he had gotten some good news. Grady was improving and out of danger. Beaudreaux was so intent on balling up the plastic that he didn't notice the man sitting in his chair. Beaudreuax dove to the ground, the tape sticking to his hands as he went for his gun.

"I am not armed." The man stayed in the chair, smoking a cigarette.

Adam narrowed his eyes and tried to make out the face in the smoke and darkness. "Who the hell are you?"

The man exhaled the smoke in a long stream. "Gary Lipton."

Adam didn't think the engineer was threat, but he was still going to follow police procedure. "Well, Gary Lipton, I want you to rise- hands in the air where I can see them and walk toward me slowly."

Gary did exactly as he was told, the remaining part of the cigarette burning away leaving ashes on the floor. Adam turned on the lights, patted the man down, feeling no weaponry he gestured for the man to sit as he shut the door and handed Lipton a cup to place the cigarette butt.

Lipton pulled out a package of cigarettes from his pocket. Adam shook his head. Gary smiled then clenched his hands, trying to stop the noticeable shaking. "I'm sorry about your friend. It was my fault. I came here to tell you that. I know it doesn't mean much coming from me, but I never thought anyone would get hurt because of me. I never thought I would hurt anyone. I'm really sorry."

Adam pulled a stool in the kitchen and sat down. "You were the mystery man in my apartment that night." Gary gestured to the gun that was still pointed at him. Beaudreux lowered his gun, and relaxed it against his thigh. "Why?"

"I'm not proud about it. I was selling government information to the Chinese—related to computer chips." Gary swallowed and then continued. "I heard you were on my case and hoped you could help me. But it wasn't you who came through the door. I didn't think, and reacted. I'm sorry, and I came here to turn myself in or you can kill me." Gary rubbed his eyes. "My life is over. The US government does not want to arrest me-they want to kill me-too many spies and secrets getting into enemy hands and the public loses faith—so why not eliminate a lonely scientist no one will miss. . ." Lipton chuckled. "You know if you killed me you would be doing everyone a favor."

"I can't say that it isn't tempting. That was my friend you left bleeding on the floor." Adam shook his head, trying to figure out what to do. It was tempting to do as Gary asked and killed him.

"I AM sorry. I didn't know what to do. I ran, and then when I came back there was already an ambulance. . ." Gary wiped his palms on his jeans. "Look, please put me out of my misery."

Adam grasped the man's arm. "Wait, I think I can help you. . ." Adam wanted to bring Gary to the police station, but this was a case where he needed to bend the rules.

"I won't put up a fight." Gary sighed.

The desperation the detective heard lessened his anger against the man who had shot Grady. Adam growled for a second; mad at himself for wanting to assist people. "Do you want some help?"

Lipton stood and began fumbling through his pockets. "Ha-please, against the Chinese? The Federal government? Can you smuggle me out of the country?" Gary found the cigarette and this time Adam let him smoke it.

The detective picked up the phone, thinking of a couple of people who could help. "Give me some time and I'll figure something out."

Gary pressed the receiver and kept his hand on it. "Why do you want to help me? I shot you friend. . .I'm a traitor to my country."

Adam hung up the phone once Gary moved his hand away. "If you could go back and change it-would you?"

"Of course," Lipton said without hesitation. "In a few seconds I made a decision that ruined my life." Gary took a few deep puffs on the cigarette. "Everything was tempting—the money, the excitement."

"All the stuff missing from your life?" Adam knew men like this who felt unfulfilled. Guys like Gary had no sense of self worth or self esteem so they figured a little risk would make them feel more like a man. But, the detective had to give Lipton some credit-he knew he was in deep trouble. "I'm not saying you're off the hook. You deserve to go to jail, and you will, but you shouldn't be killed."

Gary smoked the rest of the cigarette and placed it in the cup. "I'll go to jail."

Adam nodded. "Listen; let me call a friend who can hide you out for the night." Beaudreux grabbed Lipton's arm. Adam tightened his grip to convince the man. "You can have a good night's sleep."

"I don't think that'll ever happen," Gary involuntarily rubbed his bloodshot eyes. He paused a moment. "And I don't want anyone else getting shot or in the way of a bullet meant for me."

Adam nodded. "Don't worry he won't." He knew exactly who would help him.

Miguel still couldn't believe Adam was asking him to help the guy who had gotten Grady shot. "Beaudreaux, I'm not the witness protection program."

Adam glanced at Lipton and Miguel looked, too. Granted, the man did look pathetic, chain smoking and pacing. "Come on, Miguel, there has got to be a K-Street hangout where you can stash him for a night."

Mendez placed a hand on his mentor's shoulder. "You sure you know what you're doing? He shot Grady." The former gang member wanted to remind Beaudreaux about his recent passion for revenge.

Adam grinned. "There's more than that going on. He needs to be punished, and he will be, but by the authorities. You got that?"

"Okay, I get it." Mendez sighed. He gestured for Lipton to follow him. "You'll be safe with my hommies."

"Thanks, I appreciate it." Gary stuck out his hand. Miguel shook his head and grasped the hand lightly.

In the car Mendez kept silent. He began to drum his fingers on the steering wheel. Then he decided he needed some music. He quickly turned the radio on, fiddled through the stations, and finding nothing he liked turned the radio off. "You're just lucky that Grady's gonna pull through."

Gary had been looking out the window, also avoiding Miguel. He turned to look at the former gang member. "I'm sorry about your friend." Lipton cleared his throat then added, "really."

"Just want you to get this straight-I'm doing this for Beaudreaux." Mendez gripped the steering wheel.

Gary nodded. "I understand."

Miguel shook his head at the circumstances he had been placed in. He smiled though when he passed a corner and saw some of his friends. "Stay put, I'm going to talk to some people that'll have a place for you."

Mendez pulled the car over and slammed the door shut. He didn't wave to his friends instead he kept his hands in his jean pockets. He greeted them with a nod. These were K-Street gang members, brothers he had had grown up with on the street. "I need a place to stash someone." He knew he could turn to them in time of need.

Petey put out his cigarette. "I know of a place." He began to give directions when his words were drowned out by gunfire. The men gathered dove to the ground for cover, and kept their heads covered. A few of the gang members brought out their guns in preparation for a battle. As suddenly as the chaos started it stopped.

Miguel stood up slowly, and looked at his friends to make sure they were fine. "Oh shit," he exclaimed as he looked at his car filled with bullet holes and Gary Lipton slumped against the dashboard dead.

Part 18

Adam walked down the corridor of the hospital smiling. He carried with him a pile of magazines for Grady to read. Malloy had reported the martial artist was bored. He knocked before entering and was surprised to see Jamieson standing near the window.

"Should you be up?" Adam dropped the magazines on the chair and went to his friend.

Grady waved him off. "After movement you are able to appreciate stillness." He smiled as he began to shuffle back to his bed. "Ying and yang."

Beaudreaux hovered near his friend's side. The doctor was expecting a full recovery and Grady was going to be coming home in two days.

Jamieson held his stomach as he eased himself into bed. It still felt like all his guts would spill out every time he moved. "Miguel and Malloy filled me in about that Lipton guy." Grady pushed himself up on his pillows so he was sitting up. "You want to tell me the rest?"

Adam shook his head and sat down, placing the magazines on the bed. "Not my story to tell." The detective didn't want to talk about his failure. Pine had been upset when he found out Beaudreux had gone against his wishes and that of the federal government. Charlie would support his friend, but was upset at being placed in the awkward position.

"Miguel said it was some drive by. Malloy said the NSA was by the bar." Grady crossed his arms. "We smell a conspiracy."

Beaudreux sighed and took a seat by the hospital bed. Adam looked out the window, thinking back when Miguel had called him and told him what happened. The detective knew it was the NSA, but there was no proof.

Jamieson, noticing his friend was deep in thought over what had happened with Lipton began to pick at the sheets. "Heard you tried to help the guy." Grady looked up and stared at his friend. Miguel had filled him in. Adam was trying to protect Gary, and the martial artist knew when the detective failed he took it very hard.

Adam stood up then sat down again. "Yeah, and where did that get him-dead."

"You can't help everyone—some things are too big. . .even for you, B." Grady thought back to his horrific nightmares. He had almost become lost in that world. Jamieson stretched his hand out to his friend, then brought it back. "I'm just glad you were there for me."

"What?" Adam threw his hands up. "You're in this bed 'cause of me." The detective shook his head, and saw the movement Grady had made with his hand. The detective relaxed back into the padded chair. He had almost lost his best friend, and he was focusing his energy on something out of his control instead of Grady.

The martial artist laughed, although it caused him some discomfort so he decided to grin. "You were there when it counted, trust me."

Beaudreux reached out and clasped his friend's hand. "You scared me, man." Adam looked straight into the martial artist's eyes, conveying how frightened the detective had truly been at the thought of losing someone so important.

Grady grasped the hand firmly, relishing in the seconds of contact and wishing he had found Adam sooner. The detective could have been there to keep the monsters and the nightmares at bay. Jamieson didn't trust his voice and cleared his throat before answering, "Sorry, B. . ."

Adam brought his other hand up to clasp their still joined ones. "Just don't ever do that again." He squeezed the younger man's hand slightly. "I lost you once. I don't want to go through that again. You're a part of my life now . . ." Beaudreux's voice became husky.

Grady nodded, closed his eyes for a moment. Maybe later he'd blame his sentimental tendencies on the pain medication. "Thanks, B. Thanks for caring and being there."

In those few seconds both men believed in the power of friendship.

THE END


End file.
